I was 12 years old when I found out my mother had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

It continues…

Non-remitting, painful multiple sclerosis.

Right away the doctors began giving her chemotherapy, which made all her hair fall out and put her in a wheelchair.

Months and months went by, and my mother only got worse and worse.

Because of all the strain, my father began giving up. He started a new job, with a truck driving company. This job required him to be gone weeks and weeks at a time, leaving my mother alone by herself while I was at school.

Time went by, and pretty soon I stopped going to school all together not wanting to leave my mother alone. She became like a small child, needing this and that, a diaper change, a plate of food, change the channel on the TV, bring her this, bring her that.

And for a 13-14 year old this was not an easy job. While all my friends were out at school dances, and doing fun things, I was inside this dark place, taking care of my weakening mother. Finally, at age 15 I decided I could no longer take it. I packed my bags and ran away from home. This made my father have to come home.

Two weeks later I was found and sent to live with my aunt and uncle in Florida, leaving my mother behind in Georgia. I was in Florida maybe 4 months when the news came.

I remember the day…it was a chilly day, October 17th to be exact. I was sitting on my aunt’s couch watching cartoons when my aunt and uncle got a phone call. They both came out of their room looking at me with such pity. I knew something was wrong, but could’nt figure out what it was. I thought maybe I had done something wrong.

My aunt sat down and told me the news…my father had left for work that morning, and had gotten a phone call that our house had caught on fire. When he arrived at the scene, police and firefighters were all around. The chief of police knew my father and gave him the bad news. My mom’s wheelchair was found on its side, and my mother had died of smoke inhalation. This was terrible to me.

My mother had been my best friend, the love of my life. I swore when I was little that my mom would be around forever. But not now, she would never see me graduate, never see her grandchildren, never live life like I always imagined she would.

A few months passed by, and I became clinically depressed. I was to the point that I felt I had no reason to live. I was taken to see doctors and all I wanted was my mother. One night, I layed down to sleep, holding my mothers picture. And I had a dream.

A dream where I saw my mother…like I remembered her, strong and beautiful. She told me she was okay and no matter what, she was always looking over me, like my guardian angel. To have faith in God, she says, is to believe that you will be alright.

After that night, I began getting better. No medicine, no talks from doctors, just a simple dream and faith in God got me through years and years of pain. I am now 18 years old, with my own daughter. I live with my fiancee’ and I am very happy.

I still miss my mother, yes, but every time I begin to feel down, I just think about that dream, and know she is there, in heaven, watching me and protecting me.

Now I believe that you can make it through anything, with just a little faith in God, and belief of the unseen, anyone can do it!